


Well it has a ribbon

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being subjected to a Disney movie, Sherlock knows exactly what to get John for their first Christmas as a couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well it has a ribbon

Even if asked, Sherlock would never admit that inspiration for his gift to John came from something as banal as a Disney movie. No, it didn’t matter how excited John had been to sit him down on the couch and watch the movie, nor that after viewing it, John had spent an obscene amount of time on youtube watching videos of puppies frolicking around houses and back yards and anywhere else they were prone to frolic.

 

He would not admit that he spent days scouring websites for the pros and cons for cocker spaniels and other breeds, even at one point considering heading to the shelter and adopting a dog (John would have appreciated the idea, saving an animal, but Sherlock wasn’t sure John would cope well with a dog dying a few years after receiving it… and he was more focused on puppies than adult dogs). He would never admit that he had visited a few breeders of well repute before finally settling on someone in the neighborhood with a box full of puppies, all scrambling over one another in the excitement of the crowd of people, nor that he had given them far more than asking just so he could take it home right away.

 

Sherlock would never tell that he had set the small animal in 221C, spending far too much time there under the guise of “going to the morgue” to watch it crawl around the carpet, trying to find its sea legs, yipping and chirping as it toddled towards him. That he took much care to keep all fur from his presence in case John had learned to observe, that he had spent an obscene amount of money on toys and odds and ends to keep the puppy entertained for the short week until Christmas.

 

John would never know that Sherlock had come up with numerous names for the puppy, all ones that John would have vetoed for being unsuitable – though Sherlock thought Sigerson was a perfectly dignified name for a dog. He’d never hear about how Sherlock had sat on the floor of 221C with the puppy dozing in his lap, laptop balanced on one knee or on the floor, or about the one time “Sigerson” hadn’t quite made it outside and Sherlock had to throw away a pair of trousers.

 

But Sherlock would know the look on John’s face when he opened his eyes and found the puppy sitting in his lap, bouncing from foot to foot as he tried to unsuccessfully climb John’s sweater, chirping a bark at his failure. The way John’s eyes had teared up as he brought the little wrinkled face closer to his own and he smiled widely.

 

“Welcome to the family, Gladstone.”

 


End file.
